The handshake lingered longer than either man preferred.
Upon contact, Kairo immediately felt it—a new thought resurface in his mind, something feels off. The man before him was masking some ulterior motives.
"This kid's the hero of Kamei Island? Too young. Hopefully he won't get in the way of our plan."
Kairo heard it all in his head.
So it's true. This guy's hiding something.
Kairo's grip tightened slightly.
"Hello, Mr. Chamberlain. Where's the previous mayor?" he asked casually, voice calm but eyes sharp.
Chamberlain twitched. He tried pulling his hand back, but Kairo didn't let go.
"Is this brat gay?" Chamberlain sneered inwardly.
Kairo's brow twitched.
"Tch. Calling me gay? You damn fat rat…"
Outwardly, he smiled.
"The old mayor retired. Said he was getting too old for this kind of work," Chamberlain said, shrugging. "I heard he left the island for a vacation or something…"
"That old bastard conned me out of 30 million bellies and vanished! I still haven't found a trace of him."
Kairo relaxed—a bit.
So the mayor wasn't murdered, just ran off. At least that was one burden off his conscience. The old mayor had shown him kindness in his youth. If something had happened to him, Kairo wouldn't have let it go.
"I see," he said. "And what can I do for you, Mr. Mayor?"
Chamberlain grinned and finally sat down.
"Oh, nothing major. I just wanted to meet our island's hero. I'll be working here for a while, and I believe we should keep in touch to build good relations."
"Tch. This kid's the key to flipping this place. With him on my side, turning this into Lord Umi's supply hub is gonna be smooth sailing."
The moment Kairo heard that name—Lord Umis—his heart sank.
One of the Six Kings of the Underworld. A monster who controlled a third of the Grand Line's black market shipping routes.
And they're eyeing Kamei Island now?
Not good.
Chamberlain noticed his frown. "Something wrong, Mr. Kairo?"
Kairo snapped out of it. "Ah—no. I'm just thinking of something unrelated."
He released Chamberlain's hand and sat down across from him.
"Glad to hear it. I'll be hosting a banquet in two days. I do hope you'll attend, Mr. Kairo. It'd be an honor to have you as my guest."
Kairo smirked slightly. "I'll be there. that sounds like a fun."
Liar. He knew exactly what this banquet was—a soft push for influence. Chamberlain wanted to get close, get support, and to get leverage.
And Kairo had every intention of smiling through it… for now.
After a few drinks of surprisingly expensive red wine (in a coffee shop, no less), Kairo excused himself and left the café.
Back at the villa, he stumbled through the gates, the wine hitting harder than expected.
"Master!"
"Boss!"
Ivan and the five maids rushed to support him.
The alcohol buzz made Kairo feel lighter… and bolder. His arms found their way around two of the maids—Martha and Jenny—and he ignored Ivan's help completely.
"Already home… huh…" he muttered, a half-smile on his lips as he leaned into the maids and walked toward his room.
The three remaining maids blushed furiously, and Ivan looked away with an awkward cough.
"You three, wait outside the door," he ordered, then turned and left like a true gentleman.
Inside, the door clicked shut.
The Next Morning
Kairo groaned, rubbing his temple. His head throbbed with the dull ache of a hangover.
"Huh…?"
He blinked.
Two arms—slender, soft, bare—rested across his chest.
He slowly looked to the sides.
Martha. Jenny.
Their hair was messy. Their skin bare. Their clothes… in shreds on the floor.
"Wh—"
He yanked the blanket up in a panic. Skin. Skin everywhere.
Both girls stirred awake.
"Master…"
Their voices were soft and gentle.
Kairo's face turned red instantly.
"U-Um—get up! Hurry!"
He jumped out of bed, grabbing his clothes and half-tripping as he stumbled to the door.
Outside, the three maids stood silently, holding towels and toiletries. They froze as Kairo emerged with a bright red face.
"Take those in. Wash the other two."
He didn't look back as he stormed away, leaving three stunned—and slightly envious—maids in his wake.
Outside, the breeze cleared his head somewhat. He walked the beach alone, long sword at his hip.
What the hell happened last night…?
As someone who had died a 30-year-old virgin in his past life, suddenly having two women was… overwhelming.
Too much.
He needed to vent.
With a shout, he unsheathed his blade and slashed at the sand.
Waves of sword aura exploded from his strikes, carving deep gashes into the beach like natural disasters.
Slash. Slash. Slash.
More than a dozen massive sword marks scarred the shore.
But within minutes, the tide erased it all.
Just like everything else…
He breathed heavily, lowering the sword. Slowly, clarity returned.
And then—it happened.
A sudden surge erupted from within him. From the core of his being.
Conqueror's Haki.
It roared out in a wave, centered on him like a pressure dome, cracking the nearby rocks and sending birds scattering from the trees.
Kairo's eyes widened.
Not again...
He clenched his fists, steadying his breathing.
This time, he focused.
Instead of resisting it, he embraced the sensation. Felt its rhythm. Its weight. Its force.
He didn't want to lose control. Not again.
And just like that, it began to fade.
Controlled. Contained.
Kairo stood silently on the beach, the breeze tugging at his cloak, his sword planted in the sand.
The Wolf King had more than enemies to fight.
He had himself to master.